11
Caleb wasn’t a fool. He knew I wasn’t dead–there was no body in the crocodile pool.
He dispatched all his men to track me down, and Lucas’s villa became my only refuge.
Outside the window stretched an endless sea, mirroring my current state: seemingly unbound, yet completely caged.
At lunch, the soft clinking of bone china and silverware echoed in the quiet.
“Elena, Caleb’s gone mad, pestering me daily. No place is truly safe anymore, so I’ve had to trouble you to stay here.”
Lucas gracefully slid a piece of beef toward me, his voice as casually magnetic as ever. “Consider staying by my side long–term. I can protect you.”
I picked up the beef, didn’t eat it, just swayed it gently between my fork. “I appreciate your kindness, Mr. Zane.”
“I’ve never had a clean reputation. I won’t drag you down with me.”
I don’t trust anyone–only myself.
I set down my utensils and dabbed my lips with a napkin, though I hadn’t eaten a bite.
“I never thought that video would fool him for long.”
Lucas raised a brow, slightly intrigued. “Oh? Then why go through all that trouble…?”
“To confuse him–and buy us time.” I met his gaze, steady and calm.
“I’ve already planned the second phase of revenge.”
Lucas paused, signaling for me to continue.
I gently placed a hand on my lower abdomen–where an unwanted life was quietly growing.
“I want to terminate this pregnancy.”
Lucas’s fingers stiffened around his wine glass, and the sharpness behind his lenses flashed. “Elena, have you really thought this through? Abortion… it’s rough on the body.”
He paused, then softened his tone. “If you don’t want it, let it be born–I’ll raise it. The Zane family doesn’t lack a bowl and a pair of chopsticks.”
I almost burst into laughter.
“Mr. Zane,” I said, slowly and clearly, “I care. It carries Caleb’s blood–the man who indirectly killed my parents.”
‘A child cursed from the womb shouldn’t exist!” My voice trembled with emotion, fingernails sinking into my palms until they hurt.
Caleb was the illegitimate child of the Turner family. His mother died giving birth to him, and he’s lived suppressed, unable to lift his head.
He’s always yearned for the warmth of family and fatherhood.
And now, that will be the very thing I used to destroy him.
Lucas stared at me silently for a long while, then sighed–a sound of reluctant surrender, perhaps mixed with a trace of pity.
1/2 58.3%
“All right. I respect your decision.”
The next day, Lucas brought a trusted private doctor to the villa.
Cold instruments stirred inside me, sending jolts of pain through my body though none compared to the emotional numbness that followed.
After the procedure, I was as pale as paper, yet I insisted the doctor seal the tiny, unformed life inside a sterile glass container
The blurred clump of tissue, suspended in formalin, stung my eyes like a venomous thom. “Send it to Caleb.”
Lucas’s men worked fast.
Word has it, Caleb was in the middle of an emergency meeting, trying to salvage the chaos triggered by the dock disaster.
He opened the elegantly wrapped package, inside a note in my handwriting: To Caleb, personally.
Curious, he lifted the lid. And when he saw the fetus floating in the glass bottle, the color instantly drained from his once–proud face.
Pfft
He coughed up blood, staining his shirt in vivid red.
He stared at the jar wide–eyed, as if gazing into his worst nightmare.
Then his tall frame swayed and collapsed, unconscious,
“Caleb spat blood and passed out. The scene is in chaos,” Lucas’s man reported eagerly, barely hiding the thrill in his voice.
I leaned against the headboard. The sunlight outside was blinding, but it couldn’t warm the coldness in my chest.
“Excellent.” I shut my eyes as a cold smile curled on my lips.
“Caleb’s fall has left his territory wide open. His underlings will soon devour each other.”
Lucas chuckled lowly on the phone. “A woman unchained by love–her intellect rivals Einstein’s.”
“Don’t worry. My men are already on the move.”
